


Pack Bonds

by PhantomLuna



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bad Alpha Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Fluff and Angst, Hurt Peter Hale, Hurt/Comfort, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Peter Hale & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Post-Nogitsune Stiles Stilinski, Post-Season/Series 03 AU, Pre-Slash, Stiles is just starting to learn magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-08
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2021-01-25 12:56:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21356602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhantomLuna/pseuds/PhantomLuna
Summary: Stiles begins to notice that Peter isn't really part of the pack. Before he can decide what to do about it, there's another monster attack.Stiles learns what pack bonds really are.
Relationships: Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 41
Kudos: 1175





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First time writing this pairing. My AU take on what went down a couple of years after season 3. Ignores the rest of the seasons.  
Erica and Boyd are alive, Scott is the alpha, and the Nogitsune didn't kill Allison. 
> 
> Comments mean the world to me and absolutely make my day

For as smart as Stiles liked to think he was, it took him rather a long time to realise what was going on.

At first, it had seemed like normal Peter things. He was always creeping about on the outskirts, even back when he was crazy and on a murder spree. That he still did it wasn’t anything unusual. It was just Peter.

But then he started to notice other things. Little things, really, but they added up. When Peter made any kind of suggestion, even if it was only about where they were ordering food, it was instantly shut down. Not only by Scott either, although he was the most vocal about it.

“Please tell me we have something decent to watch tonight,” said Lydia with a sigh and an expectant look around the room.  
It was movie night. Scott insisted on having them once a week now. Ever since Derek had started teaching him about pack bonds, and the importance of maintaining them.

“Right, I’ve got all the modern horror greats here,” Stiles bounced around the room and started emptying his backpack on to the coffee table.

“Halloween and Friday the 13th for the slasher fans, Paranormal Activity and The Conjuring for a ghost story, and 28 Days Later and Dawn of the Dead for our zombie needs.”

“I hate horror movies,” Lydia rolled her eyes.

“Tough shit, it’s Halloween. We need to watch a horror movie,” said Erica, opening a can of coke and settling herself on the couch next to Boyd.

“Well, I’m not watching any of that slasher stuff. It's stupid. I can actually feel my IQ lowering when they’re on.”

“I vote 28 Days Later. Always enjoyed a good zombie movie,” Peter drawled from the corner of the room.

“Shut up Peter, you don’t get a vote,” Scott snapped, not even looking his way. Stiles starts, pausing what he’s doing to shoot an incredulous look at Scott. He doesn’t notice.

“I’ve not seen The Conjuring, but I’ve heard it’s really scary,” said Kira, the conversation carrying on seamlessly as though nothing untoward had been said.

“I’m cool with that. Horror movies aren’t actually scary anyway,” Isaac said, seemingly disinterested. Stiles had noticed he tried to cover up the fact that he hasn’t seen many movies by pretending he doesn’t care about them. He always ends up enthralled though.

“When you’ve seen what we’ve seen, it takes more than a couple of jump scares to frighten us I suppose,” said Allison, smiling fondly at Isaac.

They continued on, all generally agreeing to watch The Conjuring. But Stiles wasn’t looking at them.

He was looking at Peter, a slight frown on his face.

Do they always do that? Why hadn’t he noticed it before? Most importantly, why was it bothering him? Sure, he doesn’t hate the guy anymore. He can be useful too when he wants to be. But they aren’t friends. Stiles doesn’t think Peter has any friends.

And maybe that’s why he finally noticed. Peter’s withdrawn a little more now after that dismissal. Slinking back into the shadows. And for a second, his face had been completely blank, absent his usual smirk.

Stiles can’t help but notice the hypocrisy here. Scott forcing Peter to come along for mandatory pack bonding, and then not letting him be part of the experience. He shouldn't be surprised, really.

It’s a wonder its enough to keep Peter in the pack.

Is it enough though? Peter barely has any actual conversations with them outside of the usual monster research, and Stiles knows he’s definitely not having any physical contact with them. How long can he go on like this before he ends up going omega? Or worse, off on another murder spree?

Stiles could be overreacting. Maybe Scott just doesn’t care for his taste in movies, and he’s getting enough pack contact with Derek and the others.

Somehow Stiles doubts it. But he’s noticed the problem now, and he’s definitely going to be doing some investigating here. He definitely isn’t one to let something go when he wants answers.

*

The thing is, now that Stiles has noticed it, he can’t help but see it all the time. It’s never anything big really, but it does seem to all be adding up.

“Get out of my seat Peter,” Derek huffs at him, kicking the front door shut behind him.

And Peter moves. He actually moves. He goes with an exaggerated eye roll and a stretch, but he still moves. Away back to his perch on the stairs in the corner.

*

“And voila! One slightly lopsided sponge cake!” Kira beames at them from the kitchen, showing off the result of her new hobby. She hands out plates of cake, Stiles eagerly digging into his along with the rest. Then he hesitates and looks up. There Peter is in his corner, and he’s been missed. Stiles doubts Kira even noticed she did it, she really is too nice to deliberately skip someone like that.

But deliberate or not, Peter was left out. Again.

Stiles really doesn’t know what to think of all this.

*

In the end, he doesn’t actually make a conscious decision.

It’s been a normal Friday night for the pack. Meaning they’re all out in the woods fighting whatever monster is trying to kill them this week.

This time it’s a dragon. An actual fucking dragon. Stiles is still trying to get his head around that.

It’s less of a giant Lizard and more of a freaky scaly dude with claws who can breathe fire. He’s also decided to set up camp in the middle of the woods and hoard designer shoes, but who is Stiles to judge.

When the break-ins had started and all that was stolen was expensive shoes, they’d all kind of joked that it was Lydia. Other than that though, they were stumped. It was Peter who had come out with the dragon suggestion first, only to be shot down by Alison and told this was a serious situation.

Peter had shrugged and went back to his book.

But Stiles paused. Are dragons real, or is Peter just trying to mess with them?

Now that he thought on it though, when was the last time Peter said something that didn’t turn out to be right on the money?

Stiles sidled up to Peter in what he tried to make a casual manner.

“So,” he said, “dragons are real too?”. Peter barely spared him an upward glance.

“If any of your little pack bothered to read some bestiaries, you would know that.” ‘Your pack’, he said. Not ‘our’.

“You think I’ve not tried to get my hands on them? But its all ‘family secrets Stiles’, or ‘this is for wolves only Stiles’,” he rolls his eyes.

Peter pauses in turning his page, glancing up at him. “You mean to tell me your pack of children won’t let their smartest member actually do some research? It’s a wonder any of you are still alive at all.”

For some reason, ‘Peter thinks I’m smart’ is what Stiles’s brain chooses to focus on here.

He decides to choose his next words carefully.

“Well, then it's a good thing we have you, right? You’ve got serious knowledge on all our creature features.” He was aiming for casual again, and thinks for once he pulled it off.

Stiles gauges Peter's reaction and sees his facade falter for a second before snapping back into place.

“Nice to know I’m good for something around here,” Peter drawls back at him, but it’s lacking some of its usual edge.

Stiles settles himself on the couch next to Peter.

“So. Dragons?” The smallest of smiles makes its way on to Peters's face, but it’s gone before Stiles can blink.

He’s taking this as a victory.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the lovely comments! It's honestly kept a smile on my face all day. I wasn't expecting to post the next chapter so soon but it was ready, so why not.  
Please feel free to let me know what you think of this part!

Dragons, as it turns out, aren’t at all like they are in the legends.

They’re much more humanoid, for starters. Some can even pass enough to slip into society. Most are far too covered in thick protective scales for that though.

Their eyes are vaguely reptilian and yellow, pupils narrowing to slits like a cat. The claws are longer than a werewolf's, and probably more like talons than anything else. They’re also covered in a nasty venom designed to stop wounds from healing.

And yeah, they actually do breathe fire.

Stiles would be bouncing with the excitement of it all if it wasn’t currently trying to kill his friends.

“Holy shit this thing actually breathes fire!” Isaac leaps to the side, barely managing to avoid getting singed.

Stiles pauses for a second to take stock. He looks at his bat. His very wooden bat. If he survives this, he’s getting a metal one.

Fuck it.

He swings as hard as he can at the things head. The bat shatters, and now the dragon is looking at Stiles.

He has a split second to realise the deep shit he’s in as the creature opens it razor-toothed mouth. He sees a red glow bubbling up in its throat.

Then he’s flying.

For a second, he doesn’t feel anything.  
Then Stiles registeres the warm body pressed against his. Followed by pain in his back as they land against some roots and the familiar smell of burning flesh.

It takes him a moment before he realises it isn’t him that’s burning. Then his head clears a little and he’s able to take in the scene in front of him. Isaac and Scott are both lying a little away on the ground, both still wolfed out. Alison is perched up a tree with her bow; she’s learned she hits better when she’s tucked as far out of reach as possible. Erica is sporting a nasty broken arm, bits of bone poking out at odd angles, Boyd hovering round her.

Derek is standing over the decapitated body of the dragon, fangs bloody, looking triumphant.

Which leaves one person who could be smoldering on top of him.

Peter Hale just saved his life, and got himself set on fire for the third time.

Stiles feels sick.

Nobody moves for a second. And then Peter is pushing himself off him and carefully rolling to the side, his face tight with the pain.

Stiles rushes forward, frantically looking around for someone to help.

“Someone help me with him!” Something about seeing Peter like this is freaking him out. He wonders if its because the last time Peter was burning, it was Stiles who had set him on fire. How times change.

This would normally be the part where Peter would brush him off, pick himself up, and saunter back to the cars.

Not this time.

Peter lies there, as still as he can. His face is screwed up, and he’s hunched over a little. No one else seems to be paying the pair of them much attention, having ignored Stiles's outburst.

Stiles feels a hot surge of anger go through him. Even if they don’t see Peter as a proper part of the pack, they should still give a shit that he could be dying over here.

He isn’t though, thank the gods. But from what Stiles can see, his injuries don’t look like they’re making any move towards healing.

Not good.

With some effort, and absolutely no help from the others, Stiles manages to half carry Peter back to his car. The man says nothing the whole way there, concentrating on staying upright and conscious.

As always, Stiles needs to fill the silence.

“Right, let's get you home. Why aren’t you healing?” Peter doesn’t respond.

“This is bullshit. I mean dragons? Come on. Is it the dragon? Does it have like magic fire, or is it just because it’s you and its fire? Did it claw you too? I read somewhere that their claws are venomous. Is that what this is? Magic fire venom?”

“Stiles!”

“Sorry. I’m just freaking out a little here, okay?” During all his rambling he’s somehow managed to get Peter into the back of his jeep, careful to not lie him on his back.

“This isn’t gonna be fun. I’ll drive as carefully as I can, but you’re still gonna get jostled around a bit. It’s gonna take us about fifteen minutes to get to your apartment,” Stiles says, buckling himself into the driver’s seat. Safety first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a little shorter, but the next will be the longest of the three. The last chapter is almost done and I should hopefully be posting it tomorrow.  
Thank's for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally getting the last chapter posted.  
Thank you all so much for your comments! Its what made me push through to finish this story.

All in all, it was one of the most nerve-wracking drives of Stiles’s life. And he’s including the time he drove into the kanima.

Getting Peter into the elevator proved to be another challenge.

By the time he was bundling Peter onto the sofa of his pristine apartment, exhaustion had well and truly set in.

He didn’t have time to rest yet though. He had to take a look at Peter's injuries and figure out what sort of cream you’re meant to put on dragon induced burns.

Stiles digs around in his backpack, pulling out what he likes to call his magic first aid kit. He’s never had to use it on one of the wolves before, but the principle must be the same. Right?

Peter was lying pretty motionless on his side when Stiles makes his way over to him, pot of enchanted cream and a pair of scissors in hand. As carefully as he can with trembling hands, he cuts Peter’s shirt away from him and takes a look at the damage.

A large part of Peter’s back is covered in an angry red wound. The skin is blackened and peeling around the edges, and it looks like parts of his skin have melted right off. At the centre, what looks like a bit of his spine is showing through. A faint smell of burning fibres and flesh lingers in the air around him.

Stiles takes a deep breath and gets to work. He figures the best approach here is to just slather the cream on every bit of burnt skin he sees.

Peter tenses at first touch, but as Stiles carefully rubs the cream in his shoulders start to drop. He’ll take that as a good sign.

Stiles is unusually quiet as he works, careful to cause him as little discomfort as possible. The cream seems to be doing something though. Already the skin on his back isn’t looking quite as raw and angry, beginning to knit together over the exposed bone.

He breathes a small sigh of relief. Peter’s going to be alright. He thinks.

To be honest, Stiles isn’t sure exactly when he started worrying about Peter like this. He never expected that he'd care if the man was injured.

Maybe it’s because he got the injuries saving his life. Or maybe it’s because he does seem to have been on friendlier terms with Peter lately. Either way, Peter’s somehow managed to get himself from ‘could die tomorrow and I really wouldn’t give a shit’ to ‘someone who’s wellbeing matters to me’.

Peter groans a little and rolls back on to his side. For the first time since Stiles has known him, he looks a little lost for words.

“How do you know where I live?” he finally said.

“Please. I know where you live, I know where you work, I have a key to your place and your car. I even know your Netflix password.”

“I - you - why?”

“Hey, don’t flatter yourself too much. I have keys to everyone’s house. What if there’s an emergency?” Stiles busied himself with putting his supplies away, not meeting Peter's eye.

“Stiles?”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you.” That’s got to be the most genuine thing to ever come out of Peter’s mouth. Stiles doesn’t know what to say to it, shuffling awkwardly on the spot.

“I’m the one who should be thanking you. You saved my life out there. This is the least I could do. Do you think you’re gonna be alright? I’ve never seen one of you not heal like that.”

“I’ll be fine. I’ve had worse,” he said, humourlessly. Stiles winced. He kind of deserved that.

“So I, uh, was having a read through those bestiaries you lent me. Apparently, when a werewolf is injured, maintaining close contact with other pack members makes them heal up to fifty percent faster. I can, uh, stay? If you want?” Stiles finally looks at him.  
Peter looks shocked, and wow, this has got to be the most emotion he’s ever had out of the guy.

“You don’t have to do that Stiles,” he said softly.

“I know. I’m offering though.” Stiles seems a little more confident now.

Peter considers him for a moment, a slight crease on his brow. Then it relaxes.

“Alright. Well, the bed’s definitely big enough for the two of us,” he grins at Stiles, all teeth.

That’s more like it. Peter must be starting to feel better if he’s back to his creepy comments.

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking too. Physical contact will speed up the healing the most.” That wipes the leer off his face.

“Aren’t you just full of surprises tonight.” Now Peter is the one who can’t look at Stiles. He seems a little wrongfooted without someone snarking at him. Stiles wonders how long its been since someone was genuinely concerned about him. His heart clenches a little.

“Do you need a hand getting through to your room? Do you want to wash up a bit first? I wouldn’t suggest a shower, you don’t want to wash any of that cream off yet. But I can go fill the sink for you?” Stiles is already heading towards Peter’s room, hand outstretched towards the door, aiming for his ensuite.

He’s choosing to ignore Peter’s last comment.

“And how do you know which door is my bedroom?”

“Duh, I’ve studied the floor plan,” Stiles rolls his eyes as though that should be obvious. He leaves Peter sitting bewildered on his couch as he sets to fussing around in his bathroom.

Stiles doesn’t really know what he’s doing. If you’d asked him before, he’d likely have said the most he’d do for Peter in this situation is to make sure he gets home alive.

And now here he is, in his personal bathroom, rooting around for the soap.

He thought nothing could be weirder than his best friend being a werewolf.

And yet, at the same time, it doesn’t feel weird at all. When he’d considered for a moment leaving Peter to fend for himself tonight, something lurched in his stomach. He couldn’t. It would feel completely wrong.

He knew Peter needed him, and it felt like the most natural thing in the world to be here and look after him.

What’s up with that?

*

Stiles checks his phone while Peter freshened up. He isn’t surprised to find that none of the rest of the pack has tried to contact him since he left. He doubts anyone’s bothered checking up on Peter either. Not even Derek seems to give much of a shit about him.

When Peter emerges from the bathroom, he’s in fresh pajama bottoms and is walking a little easier than he had been. He foregoes a shirt, the fabric likely too rough against his sensitive back. Or maybe he normally sleeps without a top. Maybe he’s the type of person who sleeps totally naked.

Either way, Stiles is now pointedly looking away from Peter and trying to not think about him sleeping naked in the bed he’s currently sitting on. That's so not helpful right now.

“There’s some fresh clothes in there if you want to grab a shower.”

“Um, great. Thanks. Yeah, I’ll - I’ll do that.” Stiles still isn’t looking at him.

“It’s okay if you’ve changed your mind about staying. I’ll be fine now. Just need to rest up for a few days.” Stiles finally meets his eye. Peter’s face is more closed off now, his expression guarded. Somehow, that's what gives Stiles his confidence back. 

“I’m staying. I’m not going anywhere. I’m gonna grab a quick shower, and then I’m probably gonna hog all your covers,” Stiles sounds more certain than he feels.  
This is completely new territory for him. For both of them, most likely. Peter doesn’t seem the type to let himself be vulnerable in front of anyone else. He’s not one to trust anyone with that.

And yet Stiles is still here. He’s letting him be here. He’s gonna let him stay in his bed, while he’s injured.

He’s trying not to think too much about what that means.

Right now, he’s gonna go with his gut. And his gut says Peter will definitely sleep better if Stiles doesn’t stink of smoke.

*

Stiles had thought climbing into bed with Peter would have been a lot more awkward than it turns out to be.

But he’s clean now, and he’s exhausted. He’s wearing Peter’s ridiculously soft clothes, and by the looks of things, Peter is only a few minutes away from dropping off to sleep. 

It was the most natural thing in the world to slide in beside him when Peter lifted the covers.

Stiles had expected to lie there for hours, shifting around while staying glued to his side of the bed.

Instead, he passes out almost immediately, his arm pressed securely against Peter’s. The warmth of his body next to him oddly comforting.

*

Despite everything, it turned out to be the best sleep Stiles has had in months.

The morning, it turns out, was a little awkward. Peter seemed much better and more himself, and now that Stiles was rested and no longer freaking out he was starting to second guess himself again.

Peter threw his legs out of the bed and stretched, and Stiles could see that the skin on his back looked almost good as new. It was still very pink and probably sensitive, but there was no more red and black mess. He’s not sure if it was the cream, or his company, or a mixture of both that’s sped up the recovery so much. Either way, he’s feeling quite pleased with himself as he subtly surveys Peters back.

“Morning.” Peter seems a little unsure of himself, which makes Stiles feel better. This is new territory for both of them.

“How are you feeling?” asked Stiles.

“Much better, thank you. Coffee?” Peter being nice to him is still weird. He doesn’t say that though. He's not quite looking at Stiles either.

“Please.” Peter strolls off in the direction of his kitchen, leaving Stiles to gather his thoughts for a moment. He imagines he's doing the same thing, and he’s grateful to have a second to himself.

He isn’t sure where they stand now. He can’t imagine going back to behaving how they did before. He thinks about everything staying the same, about not having that much contact with Peter after today, and something in his chest hurts.

That's new.

He’s definitely never felt that before.

It’s not the same as the longing he felt for Lydia for long enough. It’s almost tangible, like there’s a little part of Peter tucked away inside him now. He knows without a doubt that Peter is having a similar crisis in the kitchen. He can feel it.

This must be what pack bonds are supposed to be.

He can’t bring himself to panic about it though, because it doesn’t feel like a bad thing. He’s connected to Peter now, and it seems right after everything.

It’s definitely going to change things though. The fact that he feels the bonds with Peter but not anyone else stings a little, but he can’t pretend he’s surprised. He wonders if Peter has pack bonds with any of the rest of them, or if it’s only Stiles for him too.

The smell of freshly brewed coffee wafts through to him, and he supposes he better get up and face Peter. They definitely have a lot to discuss, and he isn’t sure how it’s gonna go.

Peter might not want to have pack bonds with the hyper human of the group. And even if he is cool with it, the rest of the pack are surely going to notice something has changed between them.

He’s also gonna have to tell his dad everything that happened last night. He’s done keeping secrets from him.

Whatever happens, everything’s changed now. And Stiles can’t help but feel that it’s a good thing.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope I've done the characters justice. Its been a good while since I wrote anything for Teen Wolf. Please do let me know what you think!


End file.
